wondered. No, that's disgusting! I thought. But when you've got to go,
you've got to go, I reminded myself. I loosened my belt buckle.
As I did, Fudge called, "Okay, Pee-tah... I'm done. You do the flush."
30
Fudge refuses to flush the toilet. He's afraid he'll go down the drain too.
But this wasn't the time to try to convince him he was wrong. I raced down
the hall and relieved myself. Fudge watched. He was really impressed. "I
never saw so much at once," he said.
"Thanks," I told him.
That night we were all sitting around in the living room, watching TV. I
was holding Tootsie on my lap. She let out a soft little sigh. She's a lot like
Turtle when he's asleep. I can tell what kind of dream he's having by the
noises he makes. And sometimes, when he's having a nightmare, he cries
out and shakes. Then I pet him until he's calm again.
It's the same with Tootsie. She'll be fast asleep, but she'll make these little
noises or cry out and wiggle around. Other times, she'll work her mouth just
like she's sucking on her bottle. I guess she dreams about eating a lot. But
the little sighs are my favorites, because then I know she's content. And she
feels so warm and soft, lying in my arms that way, that I feel good all over.
As soon as the show was over, Dad snapped off the TV, turned to face us,
and said, "We have some really good news for you, boys."
"Oh no, not again," I said, looking down at Tootsie.
31
Mom and Dad laughed. "Something different, this time," Dad said.
"Is it interesting?" Fudge asked, racing his little cars across the floor,
"Vrooom... vrooom... vrooom...."
"Yes, very interesting," Mom said.
"Well, don't keep us in suspense," I said. "Let's hear it."